HOME | DD

Description
While They’re Out
   He shouldn’t have stolen that pig. He should have known when he saw the stars glimmering in the early winter morning.
   They could easily follow his tracks across the field. And then he could get in trouble, not only for the pig, but for the chicken, and the horse, and the dairy cow, and the sheep. He was very aware how important it was to remain unknown, and he was conscious that if caught, his actions would not appear heroic. Indeed, if he were caught, hours of devotion and contrivance would be trivialized and considered a most despicable act. Something terrible might happen to him if they found out.
   Yet he had no contrition. He found his actions of a noble cause and decided he would be most unhappy if chastised in any way. Yet, the only way to avoid facing his transgressions was not to be caught.
   It was when he was going about his chores that evening that he noticed something; their car was still gone, the house was dark and there was no smoke billowing from the chimney.
   “How curious.” He murmured, lugging an old tin pail filled with snow through the doorway. He shut the door tightly behind him, and staggered to lift the pail onto the woodstove. Soon it would be melted, and his new companion could have her bath. She was curled alongside his pillow, nestled between an old quilt and the sheep’s fuzzy head. She was so unfashionably dirty that her little button nose was caked with mud.
   While the snow was emitting a soft, sibilant sound, the piglet’s rescuer sat knitting a new set of wool stockings. He decided her name would be Daisy and he loved her very much. Once the water was warm he benevolently lifted Daisy into the pail and began to scrub her clean. She snorted in delight. The other animals, dressed in their stockings, scarves and hats turned to watch. He pulled the pig out of the water and dried her with a fresh towel. Then he plopped a miniature hat over her ears, slipped on her four stockings and tucked her into his bed where she would be warm. He continued to move about his little cottage, wrapping the horse and cow with blankets, adding another blanket to the chicken’s nest and briefly combing the sheep’s head. Then he too, snuggled under his covers beside Daisy. He was confident the moon would awaken him when the time was right.

   The moon was a glaring beam of white when he next awoke. It was time to go.
   He rolled out of the bed with ease, as not to awaken his friends. In the dark of the night, he slipped on his boots, threw on his coat and whisked his scarf over his shoulder. Tonight, tonight was THE night. His plan worked perfectly.
   A few moments later he was half-way across the field. As far as he could see, they hadn’t returned – absolutely perfect. The wind nipped at his cheeks, and he shivered, feeling stiffened like a piece of barn board. The forest was an orchestra; the trees sung in the night and the crumbling leaves that remained rattled and shook in accompaniment. It was the last time he would ever have to feel the icy kiss of winter in the midst of the night.
   He reached the barn and squatted down, applying even pressure to all corners of the small rectangular stall window. It gave way and he snaked in through the tight opening. Once inside, the rich smells of barn-life leapt into his nostrils. He found upon his stirrings, a lucent cloud of dust emerging from the cedar shavings on the floor. It was then that he heard a noise, one that an animal would not make. And beside the sound being unusual, he knew that the only animal left in the barn should be the scabby old barn kitty, Tiger.
   Before his thoughts could register, light swept down from the sagging roof and chased the shadows into the cracks and corners.
   “Son, you’ve got to stop this,” His father boomed, standing with an amused smirk plastered on his face. “Your mother thought it must have been a UFO. I kept telling her aliens would have gone right to the hen coop, but she just wouldn’t believe me. What a woman hunh?” His smile widened.
   The boy looked down at the floor, and then at his pants. “How did yo-” he began.
   “Well honestly Jeremy. It’s rather obvious when your tracks go right to that shack’s front step. Besides, before your mother and I went out to the city early this morning, we told your older brother to watch you. Naturally, when he said he hadn’t seen you all day - because he wasn’t even home all day - we assumed you were up to something in that shack of yours. Now, where are the animals? Please don’t tell me they’re in that shack with stockings and what-nots on them again.”
   “Well…yuh…” Jeremy sighed and then gave his father a hopeful look, “Can they stay for tonight? I’ve got a fire going and everything, so… I can stay too, right?”
   His father smiled and shrugged. “What am I going to do with you? I suppose so…on one condition. Your mother has already gone to bed, so you get everything back to normal by 6am sharp.”
   “Okay Dad! Thanks and…I love you.”
   “I love you too Jer. And if your mother asks…don’t tell her.”

Description
While They’re Out
   He shouldn’t have stolen that pig. He should have known when he saw the stars glimmering in the early winter morning.
   They could easily follow his tracks across the field. And then he could get in trouble, not only for the pig, but for the chicken, and the horse, and the dairy cow, and the sheep. He was very aware how important it was to remain unknown, and he was conscious that if caught, his actions would not appear heroic. Indeed, if he were caught, hours of devotion and contrivance would be trivialized and considered a most despicable act. Something terrible might happen to him if they found out.
   Yet he had no contrition. He found his actions of a noble cause and decided he would be most unhappy if chastised in any way. Yet, the only way to avoid facing his transgressions was not to be caught.
   It was when he was going about his chores that evening that he noticed something; their car was still gone, the house was dark and there was no smoke billowing from the chimney.
   “How curious.” He murmured, lugging an old tin pail filled with snow through the doorway. He shut the door tightly behind him, and staggered to lift the pail onto the woodstove. Soon it would be melted, and his new companion could have her bath. She was curled alongside his pillow, nestled between an old quilt and the sheep’s fuzzy head. She was so unfashionably dirty that her little button nose was caked with mud.
   While the snow was emitting a soft, sibilant sound, the piglet’s rescuer sat knitting a new set of wool stockings. He decided her name would be Daisy and he loved her very much. Once the water was warm he benevolently lifted Daisy into the pail and began to scrub her clean. She snorted in delight. The other animals, dressed in their stockings, scarves and hats turned to watch. He pulled the pig out of the water and dried her with a fresh towel. Then he plopped a miniature hat over her ears, slipped on her four stockings and tucked her into his bed where she would be warm. He continued to move about his little cottage, wrapping the horse and cow with blankets, adding another blanket to the chicken’s nest and briefly combing the sheep’s head. Then he too, snuggled under his covers beside Daisy. He was confident the moon would awaken him when the time was right.

   The moon was a glaring beam of white when he next awoke. It was time to go.
   He rolled out of the bed with ease, as not to awaken his friends. In the dark of the night, he slipped on his boots, threw on his coat and whisked his scarf over his shoulder. Tonight, tonight was THE night. His plan worked perfectly.
   A few moments later he was half-way across the field. As far as he could see, they hadn’t returned – absolutely perfect. The wind nipped at his cheeks, and he shivered, feeling stiffened like a piece of barn board. The forest was an orchestra; the trees sung in the night and the crumbling leaves that remained rattled and shook in accompaniment. It was the last time he would ever have to feel the icy kiss of winter in the midst of the night.
   He reached the barn and squatted down, applying even pressure to all corners of the small rectangular stall window. It gave way and he snaked in through the tight opening. Once inside, the rich smells of barn-life leapt into his nostrils. He found upon his stirrings, a lucent cloud of dust emerging from the cedar shavings on the floor. It was then that he heard a noise, one that an animal would not make. And beside the sound being unusual, he knew that the only animal left in the barn should be the scabby old barn kitty, Tiger.
   Before his thoughts could register, light swept down from the sagging roof and chased the shadows into the cracks and corners.
   “Son, you’ve got to stop this,” His father boomed, standing with an amused smirk plastered on his face. “Your mother thought it must have been a UFO. I kept telling her aliens would have gone right to the hen coop, but she just wouldn’t believe me. What a woman hunh?” His smile widened.
   The boy looked down at the floor, and then at his pants. “How did yo-” he began.
   “Well honestly Jeremy. It’s rather obvious when your tracks go right to that shack’s front step. Besides, before your mother and I went out to the city early this morning, we told your older brother to watch you. Naturally, when he said he hadn’t seen you all day - because he wasn’t even home all day - we assumed you were up to something in that shack of yours. Now, where are the animals? Please don’t tell me they’re in that shack with stockings and what-nots on them again.”
   “Well…yuh…” Jeremy sighed and then gave his father a hopeful look, “Can they stay for tonight? I’ve got a fire going and everything, so… I can stay too, right?”
   His father smiled and shrugged. “What am I going to do with you? I suppose so…on one condition. Your mother has already gone to bed, so you get everything back to normal by 6am sharp.”
   “Okay Dad! Thanks and…I love you.”
   “I love you too Jer. And if your mother asks…don’t tell her.”